ROOTS

It’s hard to explain how it all began. Music is such a disease. I wonder if there is a Music Disease Department somewhere and I wonder how they decided who gets it…

Symptoms began early. I had hardly mastered advanced finger painting when
6-hole flutes were handed out in music class. They were metal and kind of looked like policemen’s whistles with side exhaust, and we got to own them. I learned about notes and stuff with the other kids, and I could experiment elsewhere. Cool…

Aunt Nelly was a kind and gentle lady. My sister and I were sent to her once a week for piano lessons. I’m not sure why Aunt Nelly deserved that, but she was patient, most of the time. We made progress (especially Jane) and soon became the centerpiece(s) of the entertainment segment at family dinners attended by relatives. I was never completely sold on the pleading and begging. The relatives sounded sincere sometimes, but they were lousy tippers.

Uncle Chester was a welcome exception, a regular guest every Saturday night. Using the heel of his hand and his finger tips, he could produce the sound of an entire marching band drum section on the wooden arm of a chair. He also toldgreat stories of his own invention and sometimes sang WWI songs. He always brought a bag of candy for ‘general consumption’ and Jane and I were happy to relinquish the floor. The timing of his stories was impeccable, reaching the cliff hanging moment and stopping just in time for The Lawrence Welk Show.

After a brief flirtation with the idea of playing the banjo, I began to notice the saxophone. To my dismay, Mr. Morochko told my parents that the clarinet must come first if I am really serious about the sax. He ran a small shoe store and gave private lessons on the side. Strange combination, but he played in The Chester City Marching Band (no relation). My clarinet years were taxing and challenging, thankfully brief. I was mentioned honorably, albeit reluctantly, for my interpretation of Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 at a speech and musical festival/contest featuring Christian music. Donna Wilson joined me and others as young entrants from the Christian School. She won, I think and deservedly so, because of her angelic voice and her great lungs, but who am I to judge…

So, there was a beginning…

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